The 'Acts of G-d' Clause

Last week, my BFF Amy invited me to be her date to a friends wedding in New Rochelle. I jumped at the opportunity, knowing that I would get cake and also a chance to get some good wedding ideas to call my own. Walking out the door should have tipped me off that this wasn't going to be a good evening...

The minute I walked out my front door, freezing rain and wind smacked me in the face. I opened my umbrella, fighting to keep it from breaking apart in the torrent. I ran to the main highway a block from my house, desperately waving at the yellow cabs who, for some reason, don't like to stop when the weather's bad. By the time I finally jumped into a cab that was stopped at the light, my exposed legs were soaking wet, and the wind and rain had managed to smudge my mascara to my hairline. This is New York in March...gross.

By the time we made it through the bumper to bumper traffic on the Queensboro Bridge, I was 30 minutes late and ran to meet Amy in Grand Central. During the half hour train ride, we took the opportunity to dry ourselves the best we could with napkins.

When we disembarked the train, the rain and wind had gotten worse, and we scrambled to catch a cab. Down the dark and swerving road to the venue, we veered out of the way of a fallen tree, which had collapsed across the road and now rested on the powerlines. Concerned someone might hit it, Amy decided to call the police. Unfortunately, no one picked up at 911... seriously.

We were relieved to find that we hadn't missed the ceremony as we originally thought. Everything was behind, because of a power outage. The lobby of the venue had candles everywhere and the staff desperately scrambled to collect more to light the ceremony. Finally, we were let into the ceremony. It was beautiful. The candlelight made it really cozy, and you could see the Long Island Sound crashing violently against the rocks out the window.

After the ceremony, we enjoyed an elaborate cocktail hour, then were led into the reception room where we sat down to dinner. The meal was really delicious and the decor was simple and lovely. Three quarters of the room was surrounded by windows overlooking the sound and as we ate dinner, the water seemed to rise higher and higher until it was crashing against the windows.

When the bride and groom stopped by our table, they seemed stressed. Apparently, water was starting to leak through the doors and into the room, and instead of dealing with it quietly, the staff at the venue was stressing out the happy couple. I was incredibly annoyed for them. It's their wedding day! Why would you want to stress them out like this? Every now and then through out dinner, a staff member dramatically gestured to the groom and pulled him aside to whisper something to him. At one point, a staff member came charging through the reception with a pile of towels in his arms and literally dove for the door, where water was slowly creeping in at the bottom towards the DJ booth. I realize he was trying to help, but he couldn't have drawn more attention to himself.

All of a sudden, the cake was wheeled into the middle of the room, where it was cut by the unhappy couple, and one of the staff members made an announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's almost high tide and the water is rising quickly. We need to evacuate and get to higher ground." That's when the bride started crying.

We were ushered back into the dark lobby, where the bride was bombarded by drunk relatives trying to comfort her, until she finally hid herself away in the bridal suit where she could cry in peace.

Some policemen came into the room to announce that there were buses coming that would transport us to higher ground. When the first bus came, Amy and I made a bee-line for the door, hoping desperately we would make our train. When we stepped outside we looked up to see that we would be moved to higher ground in a prisoner transport bus... ala The Fugitive.

Amy and I clasped hands in the back of the bus as we lumbered through the rain, realizing that if we were to tip over or get in an accident there was absolutely no way out, and apparently 911 had better things to do then answer phones.

Luckily, we made it to our destination, which was another country club up the road from the one we were at. We could hear music pounding in a room down the hall as the guests from the rained-out party sat in the lobby. Finally, we were able to hitch a ride on the prisoner transport bus back to the train station and made it back to the city in one piece.

I felt so bad for the bride and groom. People kept saying to them, "Hey, the worse the wedding, the better the marriage," and "this is a wedding no one will ever forget." It's true...in a few years, they will be laughing about it. But right now, they're crying about it and wondering if they can get their deposit back.

The Collapse of the Sony Atrium

The roof had just shattered and my initial reaction was relief. Registration had been such a nightmare and I had been getting screamed at for 3 hours when security announced that no one could enter the atrium.

"What happened?" I asked, adjusting the Dharma badge on my badass Purim costume.

"The glass roof shattered above the crowd, people are hurt," he answered, before running valiantly back into the atrium.

No, I thought. No, this can't be. And raising my eyes to the heavens and the sweeping rafters of the Sony building, I screamed, "SNOOKIE!!!"

She was in there. She had gone in earlier. What if she's hurt? What if she's lying on the ground, shards of glass covering her freakishly small body, cowering beneath the glittering death and hoping for anyone to help her? How could I stand here and do NOTHING when I knew Snookie needed help?

I turned to one of the volunteers working the registration desk and handed her my hand stamp. "I'm going in there," I said.

"I don't think they're letting anyone in," she replied.

Still, I whipped around and ran toward the door. "I've got to find Snookieeeeeee!"

I made it as far as the door and was stopped by one of the many security guards. Let me in, I begged him. Snookie needs me! We can't lose this woman! There aren't enough Jersey women who are as small and oddly compact as she is. I could feel the desperation boiling up in me. The sheer panic of realizing that I might only ever see Snookie again in reruns of the Jersey Shore and her E! True Hollywood Story. UNACCEPTABLE!

"Rachel!" Someone yelled from behind me. I turned to see the volunteer, running up to me with her iPhone outstretched. "She's ok!"

My head clouded. "What do you mean? How do you know, damnit?!?"

She skidded to a halt in front of me, sweat beading at her hairline. Resting her hands on her knees, her chest rising and falling at a chaotic pace, she handed the phone to me. "She just tweeted, Rachel. She's ok."

At that moment, I knew there was a god, and He is good...and loves the Jersey Shore.

“Omg roof just collapsed!’’...No finer words were ever tweeted.

I take this day with me wherever I go. You get so close to losing someone so important and everything comes into perspective... I wonder how much it is to rent a shore house.

Meet the Parents...with subtitles

Unlike Tupac, I'm seeing changes over here. Of course, it could be argued that it's 'progression' and not 'changes', which leads one to contemplate whether there's a difference between the two...but I digress...

My sister is now living in Israel. She's studying at a seminary called Neve in Jerusalem for a year! I miss her. I find it frustrating that she's not easily accessible by cell phone when I need important questions answered, like "What is Stephanie Tanner's middle name?" and "Would you still love me if I was born nose-less?" Alas, this is an exciting time for her. Not only is she going to learn a lot, but there's a good chance she could meet someone, get engaged and get married all before my August wedding. That's how the "relig" roll.

My soon to be in-laws came through town on their way back to Israel from their cruise... lucky Israelis. So, in honor of all the future-fam in the vicinity, my parents took this opportunity to pop over as well.

Normally, this could be a bit nerve wracking, but since there is a serious language barrier, I knew it was slim-to-none that anyone would throw hands. While his parents are tri-lingual, English is not included in that grouping. While this confounds most American minds, it just makes me feel uneducated. So, it was up to Dudie to help us communicate.

We got to have two family dinners together, where Dudie did all of the translating and my mom fell in love with him. It's an interesting experience... bringing two families together based on their children's love for each other. The time we spent together went swimmingly and I felt a big sigh of relief knowing that our parents couldn't be happier for David and me.